


PamZel : Flora & Fauna

by Whim_Wham



Category: Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Attraction, Botany, Chemistry, Dating, F/F, Foreplay, Nudity, Weird Biology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29405520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whim_Wham/pseuds/Whim_Wham
Summary: A rewrite of my earlier story, The Harley & the Ivy : Family Growths (now orphaned) to incorporate the sexuality into a more developed relationship than the wham-bam, zippity-zam nookie nookie nookie porno velocities of the original story before the narrative settled down into its eventual major theme of extended family extending personal growth, sense of purpose, and moral compass ; lack of these factors contributing to an absence or decay of these positive qualities.
Relationships: Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel
Kudos: 3





	1. A Vine Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A less initially sexy reinvention of the origins the of the love story of Pamela Isley & Harleen Quinzel.

Prologue

Chasing her two compatriots in crime across the moonlit rooftops of Gotham’s dockside, Poison Ivy surprised herself with a loud, delighted laugh. She paused, a puzzled frown chased the glee from her green face. The other two stopped to stare at her : Livewire's sneer slid ineffectually off of her well planted psyche, but Harley Quinn's grinning gaze ruffled something within her which she couldn't quantify ; suddenly she found herself laughing again.

Quinn splayed her arms upwards, arching her back ; her costume stretched tautly over her athletic, pert breasted figure, and Ivy felt an odd warmth radiate through her at the sight of all of that supple, staining flesh and satin.

The red, black and white clad harlequin sang out, “Hooray, Red! I didn’t even know that you could laugh!"

Confronted with the clown’s annoying observation, the botanical supervillain reset her aloof exterior, but it didn’t do anything to the somehow pleasantly needy flutter she felt within. Turned on, even though she was unaware that was what the feeling was, she turned to face her doltish accomplice ; meant to turn on her with the cooly delivered, “My only desire here is to have you help me reach climax1.” 

She meant it purely botanically, but the other two had zero botanical schooling. Harley clutched her sides, brayed laughter ; lolled against the scarred wood of a rooftop door, Willis shook her head in amused disbelief at the two flightless lovebirds.

Realizing the enormity of her double entendre, Poison Ivy blushed, the xylem2 tissue reducing her periderm3 and replacing it with the greener flush of unclad epidermis as the flush crept down the gentle curve of neck ; threatened to expose the jasmine scented ‘skin' of her shoulders underneath the prim foliage of her costume. The air about the herbaceous woman teemed and whirled with the skin exhalations of a heady concoction of horny anxiety. Hollis had nothing to fear about being poisoned by the toxicity of Ivy's biochemistry : she had shifted from her physical form to her electrical one to ignore the dangers of airborne pheromones and toxins ; Harley Quinn, however, even with her chemically altered4 physiology was far too close to be totally immune to the potent poisonous presence. Her pupils blew out, eclipsed her jade irises ; her giggling slurred ; she wobbled drunkenly ; fell on her red satined backside with a chuffed, “Whoopies!” ; started to wriggle and giggle on the dirty roof.

 _How clueless can you two be?_ Willis snickered to herself at the thought of a literally toxic relationship decided, _Time to launch a tragic love affair!_ She smirked at Poison Ivy and exclaimed, “Wallflower, you're hot for bitch clown!”

Ivy stared dumbly back at the abrupt declaration of the lightning woman’s rude assertion ; the harlequin was shocked out of her wriggling laughter. She looked blearily at the floral Isley whose costume had temporarily frozen in a cleavage revealing off the shoulder verdant gown with eyes widened and moistened by sudden realization. Pheromone drunk, she shyly asked, “Wass tha', ‘Wire? Red likes me?”

“Fuck me, how can both of you be so mother fucking dense?” Willis rolled her eyes as she addressed Poison Ivy with a pale index finger and a sardonic voice : “You've being checking her out all night, and," The finger jabbed towards the stretched out Harley, "You’ve just paraded your steak for her hard enough to make a vegan want to mouth fuck meat! Why don’t you two just shuck & suck each other’s oysters right here and now?” She flashed a toothy, evil grin.

Harley dizzily picked herself up off of filthy tarpaper, stood in close to Ivy ; could not help but run her hands through Ivy's luxuriant tresses of crimson botanical hair. Thickly, she asked, “You like me, really?”

A bemused Pamela Isley bent her neck back in pleasure at Quinzel’s gently fondling hands as she attempted to explain to both Harley and herself her feelings.

“You confuse me! Emotionally I'm happy, but physically I'm..." Her puzzlement vanished ; her expression brightened like a flower opening to the sun: "Yes! Yes, I like you! I really like you!” She brought her mouth near to Harley’s, and her pheromone laced breath made Harley squirm pleasurably even as her respiration ebbed slightly. A little more foliage faded from Isley’s outfit, and she came close to kissing, probably fatally, the quivering Harley. She laughed at the simplicity of the truth and, holding Harley by her shapely shoulders, avowed, “It’s our first date, Harleen!” She withdrew her lips to a safer distance.

“And I make it a point,” _’now’_ , she thought, "of allowing my dates to survive the first night out!”

Behind them, a stern voice broke the romantic spell with, "I don't know what you're up to but it can't be any good!”

A caped and cowled woman emerged spookily from the shadows on the far side of the rooftop.

Poison Ivy and Livewire turned as one ; Harley was too stoned to anything but weave gently on her feet, a wanton little smile plastered across her face.

Both women responded in similar yet completely different ways : Poison Ivy's cry, "Batgirl!" was depressed ; willis' shout, "Batbitch!" was gleeful as electricity arcing from an electrical junction arced out to snake and crackle over her body.

Batgirl frowned at Livewire: "Do you always have to be so rude?”

Hollis smirked : "What’cha going to do about it, spank me?” She stuck her slender bottom out, smacked a cheek with a pale hand. “Here it is, but you're far too good a girl to be able to spank me hard enough to change my ways!”

From the other direction came another female voice every bit as happy as Hollis’ : “I’ll tone your hide, spark plug!" Arms akimbo, Supergirl levitated above the warehouse's dirty roof.

To her alien friend, Babs, matter of factly remarked, “That’s tan her hide!”

Kara twinkled at Barbara before returning her full attention to the eye-rolling Willis. “So close! Idiomatic English!”

“Here it is, nerds"! Hollis dropped her leggings ; mooned them with what was indeed a toned but not at all tanned ass.

Kara descended gracefully to the rooftop ; replied to the obscene bottom thrust with a vivid spank-the-pony hand gesture, and a banana-grinned, “You won’t be able to sit on that for a year!”

Batgirl averted her gaze from the nude beneath the waist Hollis.

”That’s gross even for you, Livewire!”

Hollis cackled, pulled her tights back in proper place ; her fists crackled as she swung at the approaching Supergirl. Kara gracefully dodged the blow, and her dangerous attempt at disciplining willis began.

In desperation, Ivy, far removed from anything but her own vegetative self to draw upon, kissed Harley, whispered, “I’m sorry!” ; dove off the roof into the murky waters of the bay. Batgirl started to chase her but, had no other course of action but to render aid with antitoxin to the suddenly convulsing Harley Quinn. Having dosed the feebly squirming Quinn, Barbara Gordon cast a mystified look towards where Poison Ivy had escaped her.

She wondered, ‘Ivy looked remorseful? What did we just crash?’

Behind her the crackle of electricity and the pained scream of her friend brought her back to the action.

Flat on her back, Harleen Quinzel awoke long enough to heartbreakingly wail, “Pamela!” before passing out again under the lightning flashed ozone stink of battle.

*******************

Chapter One : A Vine Start

A cruel smile cut across her emerald face, Poison Ivy sashayed into the large, plant walled and ceilinged chamber.

“Whoever you were, you're now nothing but plant food!” She directed her gaze up at a figure struggling within a tangle of her carnivorous vines as fragments of red and black patterned cloth began fluttering down followed by the far less graceful plunge of an oversized croquet mallet.

Pamela's smile turned into open mouthed shock: “Harleen?”

The reply, panicky and a bit vine muffled, confirmed the intruder’s identity : “I don’t wanna' be fertilizer, Red! Help!”

Ivy furrowed her brow in concentration, the vines lowered from the ceiling ; their prisoner, an upside down and mostly nude Harleen Quinzel grinned that inane yet adorable grin that had first gotten under Ivy's epidermis during their three girl Gotham spree six months earlier.

“Hi ya, Red!”

Harley waved an enthusiastic upside down wave before noticing her partial nudity ; her arms came up in a demure affectation of bust coverage. Her low-hanging fruit display surprised Poison Ivy : she felt the reawakening of those surprisingly hot stirrings that had thought she had destroyed when she had used a poisoned Harley Quinn as a desperate escape plan. However, not only had Harley survived—she could only assume that Batgirl had be in possession of antitoxin—but she was also returning to try to reignite what she had almost achieved with Pamela prior to the SuperBat blitz.

In remembering the disaster, Ivy suddenly realized that she had been far angrier than usual since the sudden severing of the promising relationship, and she abruptly knew what her cure was : she needed a large infusion of Harley Quinn. The sudden realization of the void, and its surprising remedy were kept behind a frosty facade : dignity demanded that she not instantly embrace her lover, and, more importantly, she'd rather not instantly re-poison Harleen. Detachedly, Pamela inquired of her inverted guest, “Harley Quinzel, what do you want?”

Harleen pouted, her arms tightening across her chest ; pink crescents of small areola and pencil eraser nipples peeked pinkly over the pale flesh of her forearms. The mammalian display aroused two responses within Pamela Isley's mind : strong physical desire mixed with confusion. She thought, What is it about this mammal that makes her different from all of the others?

Eyes shining, Harley breathily asserted : “I want _you_ , Red!”

There was that final and seemingly unsurmountable issue : "But I almost killed you!"

"Trust me, Red : none of your charms are fatal to me!"

"Can you, really?" ; she willed the seething vine to drop its captivating cargo into her arms. "I'm going to need proof."

Ivy felt Harleen's sexual vigour through the body chemistry of the sweat, saliva and scent that carried through the delicate stoma complex of her epidermis into her biochemically super aware body ; and discovered two things : Harleen really was immune to the deadly effects of Ivy's toxins ; and, she had the sweet sexy musk of Ethylene5 in her sweat. Pamela Isley found herself laughing delightedly as she hugged the confused and then also laughing Harleen Quinzel to her sexually enkindling body.

"You really are the only mammal for me!"

Poison Ivy’s signs of sexual stimulation were far more interesting than the typical dilated pupils, and elevated heartbeat of a mammalian life form. She didn't possess these ordinary markers. In her lover's arms, a rapt Harleen watched as the exclusive sexual biology of Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley began to take shape. Quinzel had seen its beginnings only once before, but now she was literally chemically ready to devour its heady fruits.

The vegetation that clothed Pamela retreated before the spread of her comely blush to reveal a firm, busty body that was a beguilingly odd fusion of flora and fauna. The final fade of costume, at her groin, revealed Ivy’s core, a Georgia O'Keefe-esque purple, yellow and coral orchid vulva that was the single sexiest thing Harley had ever seen. Then Pamela's sexual physiology really skyrocketed.

A luminous emerald haze spread first from the genitals and then the rest of the body perfuming the air with a scent of honey. Harleen greedily breathed it in, and elatedly felt exactly what she had struggled so long to achieve : a much more measured response than the euphoric madness and near death that had been the results of her first dose of Poison Ivy's pheromones. Harley felt a lust for Poison Ivy flood through her so strong as to almost qualify as a spontaneous orgasm. She fixed her pleasure darkened eyes on Ivy’s non-blown pupils, and kissed her fervently.

Pamela pulled away, a guilty look flashing across her face.

"I abandoned you!"

Harley smiled in a way new to her: gently.

“Nope, you only misplaced me; now I'm found!”

Pamela returned the smile with one which looked just as out of place upon the cruel beauty of Poison ivy as did the which twinged gently at the corners of Harley Quinn’s mouth.

”We were both misplaced!” She leant in and placed a soft kiss against lips that, set against the pale flesh around them, only appeared to be painted.

“That’s more like it, Red!”

”I think proper names are in order : Pamela.”

”Pammy!” The prettily petite and pale Harleen Quinnzel returned the kiss, slipping a pointed tongue past Pamela's green lips as her pale hands played with breasts much larger than her own pert pair. An ecstatic little moan escaped Pamela at Harleen's oral and digital attentions ; her nipples hardened into emerald points of pleasure, and a liquid heat began to flare with insistent need at her groin.

Another unusual aspect of Pamela's botanical physiology added to the outré lovemaking : a ripple of iridescent moss flowed off of Ivy’s body ; proceeded to consume the remaining tatters of Harley’s outfit in the most outlandish, ticklish and, sexy disrobing imaginable.

Quinn giggled: “It kinda lichen tickles, Pam!” She would have gone on to make a joke that it moss look pretty funny, but Ivy tongued her pleasure pouted nipples, and she had no choice but to eject wit in favour of an ecstatic gasp of pleasure.

Suddenly feeling a little too far over the edge of rationality, a bit too giddy for her sense of floral self, Pamela, altered her immediate biochemical status, and overrode her animal lust. Knowing a happiness which had always been beyond her, Pamela planted a kiss on the sweaty forehead of a Harleen freed from the besotting vapours of their literal sexual chemistry.

Harleen smiled sheepishly. ”Got carried away, did I, Pamster?”

Cradling her face in between emerald palms, Pamela simply nodded.

******************

1 Climax, in Ivy's flowery context, refers to the ecological achievement of equilibrium in her particular vegetable environment. Somewhere deep within the floral convolutions of her vegetative mind, Pammy knows that she has the hots for Harley! 

2 The water & nutrient capillary system in vascular plants.

3 The woody exterior skin of a plant over the epidermis. Pamela uses it as her costume layer.

4 A previous dysfunctional boyfriend dipped Harley in a variant of his very own villainous origin-bath.

5 Ethylene is both an industrial gas and a plant pheromone! This makes it perfect for the narrative as it was obviously included in Harley Quinn's chemical origin bath.


	2. Sage, Orchidaceous & Well Thyme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pamela Isley, lately lone, finds herself with a double handful of buzzy, bodacious blonde. What is she to do? (In progress)

Her face slightly squished in between Pamela’s palms, Harley launched on her explanation.

“I knew that I was already partially immune to the deadlier parts of your chemistry because of my treatment ; I decided that it was only a case of my practicing-up...” her attempted smile was comically squished. “Once I decided to really chase you!”

The fine trichome1 structures of eyebrows rose over literally chlorophyll green eyes. “And you ‘practiced-up’ how, exactly?”

”Over the last three months, I’ve been dosing up on larger and larger hits of a stash of you I stole from Arkham!”

A funny emotion flitted through the faunal plant analogue brain ; it settled, fittingly enough, around the place within her chest where her heart would have been if it weren’t for the disseminated network of her phloem system. _This is what it feels like to be needed!_ It felt strong, and crazy.

It felt _wonderful_ ; the strength of it made her compress Quinzel’s face into a ever more squished parody of its wan self as she tearfully--the lachrymal2 phloem at the corners of her eyes leaked faintly bioluminescent tears, declared, “You broke _into_ Arkham, and almost killed yourself _for me_?”

Squashed Harleen nodded as much as she could clamped in her emotional vice.

Pamela Isley, biochemist, kissed her foolish daredevil ; released the pucker with hands which flew up towards the flower and vine bedecked forest canopy of the outer jungle defences of her refinery island lair.

”Well it looks like I have a brand new girlfriend!”

Gently massaging the faint red hand marks on either side of her pale face, the blonde with one blue & one red twin tails enthused, “Woo Hoo!”

The two shared a pause : Pamela’s mind whirled with the never before considered algorithms of relationship ; Harley built herself up to address her most direct, non carnal, need. Pamela began with a careful, “There are so many...” Harley, all puppy dog eyes, rushed, “Can I crash here?”

It seemed such a minor, easily granted and consequence free request to grant ; she nodded. Her lair, the long abandoned World War 2 era Gotham Naval Refinery & Depot was hers, and hers alone by almost completely official fiat3 ; there was suitable room for a cohort of Harleys. Harley squeed happily, threw her arms around her long overdue love lifer ; at the extra connectivity with the gains achieved with the extra connectivity achieved with another person came the realization that, with it, she had also collected a complication, potentially an _enormous_ one.

The earthy Ethylene fragrance of aroused Quinzel swirled an almost visible ground mist of perfect sexual chemistry around the clasped couple ; for Pamela, Harley was almost the embodiment of the heady exhalations of a jungly rainforest. Her earlier physiological reactions rekindled; she felt her costumed skin softening, warming, and beginning to flower ; Harley’s body, already largely unclothed, was flushed, a sheen of sweat glistening across the milky skin punctuated by pouty coral nipples. Pam parked a kiss on Harley’s forehead, and gently removed pale fingers following the transformation which had smoothed emerald skin down to the small of her back.

"That fire the far side of the harbour the other night was you.”

”I couldn’t do the Funhouse any longer : it had too many bad memories...”

”So you burned it down.”

A haunted look squirmed the corners of Harley’s blue eyes even as she tried to laugh it off with, “The whole thing went up like a Viking clown funeral before the pier fell into the bay : it was beautiful!”

***********************

1 Fine outgrowths of hair (Trichome is Greek for ‘hair’.) on plants, algae and lichens.

2 The lacrymal gland is the tear duct.

3 She has an agreement with Batman, and her Honour the Mayor, Marion Grange (In this story, canon in name only.) The nature of the truce will become evident.


End file.
